Approaching Storms
by Tobi is a good boy
Summary: After the explosion of S.T.A.R. Labs in Central City, Graeme Harker, the Head of S.T.A.R. Labs in the UK, is a wanted terrorist. He returns to Central City after five long years to clear his name, bringing storms in his wake. OC x Harrison Wells. Rated T. R & R please
1. Chapter 1

Approaching Storms

Tobi is a good boy

I do not own the Flash or any of the characters within. I own the character of Graeme Harker.

Summary: After the explosion of S.T.A.R. Labs in Central City, Graeme Harker, the Head of S.T.A.R. Labs in the UK, is a wanted terrorist. He returns to Central City after five long years to clear his name, bringing storms in his wake. OC x Harrison Wells. Rated T. R & R

ONE: STRANGERS FROM THE STORM

Lighting fizzed and crackled overhead, rain poured from the dark sky above. Graeme scowled as he thrust his chaffed hands into the pockets of the worn overcoat he was wearing. Although he was used to rain, lighting had always frightened him.

Ahead of him, S.T.A.R. Labs looked completely different from the last time he was here, five years ago. Then, the buildings had been shiny, new and bustling with activity.

X FIVE YEARS AGO X

Graeme adjusted the cheap black tie around his neck nervously. He was unused to wearing suits, and it felt strange to be wearing one now. It was too small for his tall frame, with rough tweed patches on the elbows.

All the other candidates were dressed in flash suits and turned out immaculately. He swallowed, entering the room. The candidates turned to regard him with obvious distain as he entered the room.

The man in centre of the room, with thick black glasses and black polo neck, looked at the tablet in his hand. This man, Graeme knew, was _the _Harrison Wells. He was a tall, handsome man, with deep blue eyes and short black hair.

"You're late…" Harrison looked down at the tablet in his hand, "Mister Harker."

Graeme met the man's gaze, "Actually, I'm not, Doctor Wells. Oh, and call me Graeme, please."

Harrison raised an eyebrow, his blue eyes flickering with what Graeme assumed to be mirth. "The interview letters clearly stated a 9AM start, Graeme."

Graeme's Glasgow accent filled the room as he explained: "Well, at first glance they did. But then using an algorithm to detect ciphers I found that the actual individual interview candidate time-slots. For example, mine is at half past nine. Which is, as you can see the time."

Harrison's mouth quirked slightly. "Very well done, Graeme. Welcome to S.T.A.R. Labs," the man held out a hand to Graeme.

Nervously, Graeme shook the man's hand. "Thank you, Doctor Wells."

Harrison's blue eyes danced, "Call me Harrison."

X PRESENT DAY X

Now, it was abandoned, wire fencing broken and yellow police cordon tape strung across the fence.

Uncertainly, he made his way through a hole in the fence towards what had been the main entrance. It was still here, scorched, but still here.

From his rucksack, he withdrew his UK S.T.A.R. Labs pass, hoping that it would still work. If it would still work.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence until a buzzing sound emitted from the door.

Graeme sighed in relief, pushing into the doorway. A few lights flickered to life as he passed them.

How odd it felt, to be walking these hallways again after so many years. Then, they had been full of staff like him.

Now, they were empty and silent. His feet had taken over, following a familiar rhythm of the years past.

They led him straight to the office of one Harrison Wells.

The office, like the rest of building, seemed to be quiet. There was one light softly glowing in the room, and the door was slightly ajar. Out of curiosity, Graeme pushed open the door of Harrison's office, stepping inside.

The room was dark, apart from the desk lamp. Siting at the desk was a man in an electronic wheelchair. At first, Graeme did not recognise who it was.

It could not be Harrison.

_It couldn't be_.

A pang of sympathy burst through Graeme's chest as he watched the man in the wheelchair.

Then it dawned on him that this was Harrison Wells, _the _Harrison Wells. He seemed to be asleep, the glasses askew on his handsome face, tired circles underneath his eyes.

"Oh, Harrison," murmured Graeme, "What have you done now?"

Those all too familiar blue eyes opened, and Harrison's mouth quirked slightly.

"You're late, Graeme," Harrison wells commented, echoing the very first words the man had spoken to him. His blue eyes pierced into Graeme's own, taking in Graeme's appearance. Graeme knew he looked dishevelled, thin and tired, with a thick beard covering half of his face. For a brief moment, an expression flickered behind the man's eyes, but Graeme could not read it.

Perhaps it was shock.

Graeme could never tell what emotions lurked behind those blue eyes, nor would Harrison reveal them unless necessary.

"What happened?" Harrison spoke before Graeme could ask him the same question.

Graeme shrugged in response, "The British government believes I'm a terrorist…"

Harrison looked away, "I suppose that is because of the Particle Accelerator."

Graeme stepped towards the man, still as nervous as the day he met Harrison. His heart beat irrationally, as always when he was nearby Harrison bloody Wells.

"Partially," he admitted. He ran a hand through his unruly auburn hair.

"That and I was framed for selling government research to terrorist cells. I've been on the run ever since. I'm sorry, Harrison. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have come. I shouldn't have put you in danger like this."

"Graeme," cut through the soft, calm voice of Harrison.

Harrison's hand was touching his own in a rare gesture of emotion. Unlike all the other times, Graeme did not pull away, instead met Harrison's gaze with his own. Electricity fizzed through Graeme's veins at the sudden intimacy. "Don't-"

The doctor's words were cut off when the door burst open, and a puffed young man holding a crow bar in his hand. His scanned the room until he saw Graeme and Harrison.

"Doctor Wells!? Are you alright? I saw that there was someone-"

"Cisco," sighed Harrison, moving his chair to forefront, holding up a hand. "It's alright. "

The young man, Cisco, visibly deflated. "I thought it was another meta-"

Before Cisco could complete his sentence about whatever a meta was, Harrison turned towards Graeme.

"This is my…partner, Doctor Graeme Harker. He was head of the S.T.A.R. U.K. division."

Cisco's eyes nearly bulged out of his head, "Your _partner_?" He looked between the two men, each who gave him blank looks.

"Cisco," Harrison, pushed his glasses upwards, "Could you give us a moment. Alone."

Cisco swallowed, eyes widening. "Sure, sure Doctor." He backed out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Harrison turned his chair to face Graeme, his face forming a slight frown, "I'm sorry that I put you in that position, Graeme." His voice appeared sincere.

Graeme realised Harrison's hand was touching his own once more, his blue eyes upon him. Butterflies raced in Graeme's stomach as he barely managed a smile. "Can I at least have a shower?"


	2. Chapter 2

Approaching Storms

Tobi is a good boy

I do not own the Flash, DC Comics. I own Graeme Harker.

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><p>TWO: Caught<p>

Cisco raced back to the main lab. Caitlin turned in her chair, frowning slightly.

"One day, you're going to slip and fall," she remarked. Then she seemed to take in Cisco's ruffled and dishevelled appearance, "What's got you in a tizzy?"

"There's a-" Cisco huffed, regaining his breath, "a man here."

Caitlin's eyes widened momentarily in fear and she immediately reached for her phone "Should I call Barry?"

Cisco shook his head. "No. Apparently he's Doctor Well's _partner._"

Caitlin raised a single ginger eyebrow at this statement, "Doctor Wells? Partner?"

The boy nodded vigorously, "Said his name was Graeme Harker."

Caitlin turned towards the computer and typed his name into the search database bar. The monitors whirred momentarily as it searched the databases for the newcomers' name. So intent had they been locating the correct files that they did not notice the intrusion of said newcomer until he politely coughed.

Cisco looked up to see Graeme, a towel draped around waist. The man was well muscled, with auburn hair trailing down his chest. His wet auburn hair was slicked off his face, revealing sharp cheekbones. There were large scars on his left shoulder, extending all the way to his navel.

"I think you'd have better luck if you spelt my name right," the man said, a twinkle in his eye. "It's 'G-R-A-E-M-E."

Both Cisco and Caitlin blushed, having been caught in the act.

Graeme grinned cheekily, "I'll leave youse to it," before he padded off in the direction of Doctor Well's makeshift quarters.

Cisco sighed in relief as Caitlin returned to the monitors, this time entering Graeme's name with the correct spelling.

"Cisco, he's…a terrorist," she pointed towards the picture of Graeme on the computer screen. The man was wanted by the CIA, MI6 and other governments for international terrorism. "Shouldn't we tell Doctor Wells? Or Detective West?"

"Why would an international terrorist come to us? Why would he come to S.T.A.R. labs here? Why would he come to see Doctor Wells?"

"I don't know," Caitlin whispered, her eyes on the image of Graeme on the computer screen.

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><p>Thank you all! Please review, follow, etc! :) All my love, TOBI<p> 


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